A Finer, Fairer Wind
by ReflectiveMuse
Summary: Just as James Norrington becomes resigned to a lonely future, unexpected reunions make a different outcome possible. Norrington/OC. First three installments re-edited.
1. Prologue

**Title: A Finer, Fairer Wind**

**Author:** ReflectiveMuse

**Rating:** PG for now, rating will go up.

**Summary:** Just as James Norrington becomes resigned to a loveless future, unexpected reunions make a different outcome possible.

**Disclaimer:** The OCs are mine, all others belong to Disney, and no profit whatsoever will be made from this.

**A/N:** Noncompliant to the latter two films—and allowing him to receive better treatment than he got in those movies—this one's my take on the premise of James Norrington moving beyond Elizabeth Swann and finding his match in someone who returns his love unconditionally. That aside, given that I find the often seen implication that no woman can compare to Elizabeth unrealistic, as I view any character disproportionately praised (and I dislike her), the OFC in question is shown with striking attributes of her own instead of being plain, less spirited and so on. Even so, she's not intended to be a Mary Sue and hopefully, she won't come across as such!

Also, Norrington concedes none of his dignity, to the point of only showing Elizabeth as much civility as decorum requires—and later on, as much as her behavior warrants—since to me, it's implausible that even a gentleman would go on indulgently catering to a woman who used and publicly humiliated him. As a result, by canon standards, he's likely a bit out of character. All that being said, on with the story, and feedback is welcome and appreciated. :)

**Prologue**

_Is this where your heart truly lies, then?_

_It is._

Two soft words, no more, yet they had inflicted a wound which pained James Norrington like no other he had ever received. That injury had driven him to seek solace in his work, made him cast himself headlong into the necessities of handling the aftermath of the battle at Isla de Muerta, as draining as the undertaking had proven to be. Once he'd resolved all of the relevant matters and somehow managed to compose reports sufficient to appease the Admiralty, the demands on him had lessened somewhat. Though the end of that trial that was a relief, in a way—the threat of severe court martial had loomed much too closely, even with the assistance of the Governor and a few of his most influential associates—its passing had taken his means of escape with it. None of the other duties of his position could even begin to distract him. _My position,_ he thought bitterly, his mouth tightening, his green eyes darkening with renewed hurt and humiliation. Rising to his feet, James made his way over to the glass doors separating his office from the balcony and stared out over the township under his sworn protection. For the longest time he'd been certain that his accomplishments and his elevated position would aid him in achieving marriage to a fine woman, would enhance his worthiness of her hand. Their match would have been built on a deep fondness, blossomed into love and not long after that would have come their family. However, it now seemed that such was not within his reach after all.

"Was it ever?" he murmured, his usually dulcet baritone a subdued, rough whisper. Even as the last quiet syllables trailed off, the self-doubt in the back of his mind that never faded entirely supplied the answer. He knew, for Elizabeth's rejection had confirmed the cruel truth of his circumstances just as much as the pitying, yet unrepentant look in her dark hazel eyes. He was more than fit, it seemed, to achieve high prestige and handle the duties and hazards that would overwhelm a lesser man. He could be looked up to, respected from afar and by some idolized, but he could not, it seemed, attain the one thing which he craved with his entire being: genuine, unconditional love. He longed to share love and trust with someone who would see James, the man, not the brocade clad, unapproachable figure he appeared to be. He longed to be with someone who would desire and accept him for himself instead of wanting only what he could provide, so deeply that he ached to the very core of his being. As he continued to gaze out at Port Royal, a faint but unmistakable stinging began at the backs of his eyes. Before it had a chance to build to its inevitable result, he quickly crushed his sorrow down, disgusted with himself for slipping into self-pity. The emotion ill became anyone, least of all a man of his stature. Inwardly admonishing himself for the lapse, he picked up his tricorn and set it atop his wigged head, squaring his broad shoulders and departing his office on a steadying breath. With the mask of the Iron Commodore firmly in place, he strode outside. It was time to resume his responsibilities and face the rest of his life.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"I can scarcely believe how long it has been since we last saw them! The time has just flown by, hasn't it?" Governor Weatherby Swann stepped from the carriage, shading his eyes from the brilliant sunlight glinting off of the water of the bay while his daughter followed suit. "I trust you remember the Hewletts, Elizabeth? Granted, you may not have crossed paths with them very often, especially after we made our respective journeys to the Caribbean, but their friendship with our family is an enduring one." Elizabeth nodded and murmured a noncommittal answer and fell into step beside him, the attendants that had come with them a couple of respectful paces behind. Weatherby glanced at her as she looked around the bustling harbor, trying to suppress a sigh. He waited an instant and then remarked quietly, "Perhaps I was mistaken in thinking that you might welcome this as a diversion from certain unpleasantries." Elizabeth started and glanced at her father guiltily, hastily shaking off her distraction.

"Oh, it isn't that I don't, Father. My thoughts were simply elsewhere for the moment."

"I see," he replied, his voice sounding too knowing to her ears. Sharp defensiveness flared within her, followed by acute resentment. Those were only two of the emotions that had become all too familiar since she'd chosen between her suitors atop the battlements of Fort Charles, stepped from one man's side to the other in front of the entire township—much of which had then proceeded to talk endlessly. _As though I need to hear vastly inadequate descriptions for my troubles, or to be reminded of them_! She drew breath to frame a rejoinder, but his pleased comment forestalled her.

"And there is the Commodore, here already." She pulled her attention away from him and looked ahead to see the Commodore and his two right hand lieutentants waiting on the pier with a small company of marines. As they approached, the three officers came to meet them while the marines who had accompanied them kept to their places.

"Good day, Commodore Norrington!" Weatherby greeted warmly.

"Good day, Governor," James returned, his small, characteristically formal smile, the one he reserved for both official and social functions curving his lips, a glimpse of genuine warmth flickering through it as he spoke.

"I hope I did not prolong your wait overmuch," the older man continued.

"Of course not, sir. You've arrived right on time." He indicated the two grand vessels in the bay drawing closer to the loud announcement of arrival. Giving them a brief look, Elizabeth eyed James carefully from her place beside the Governor while the lieutenants offered their greetings, considering how best to proceed with him. Though the degree to which James had withdrawn from her life since the end of their short engagement bothered her more than she cared to admit—was in fact beginning to truly rankle—she missed his presence, missed having him as the ever available constant she'd long known. Deciding that a gracious approach would be best, she stepped forward with a small smile of her own as the men glanced in her direction.

"Good day, James," she said, unable to help the prompting, somewhat hopeful note that crept into her tone. He turned to her, a trace of emotion briefly flickering in his eyes. Her anticipation heightened, then collapsed into keen disappointment as his countenance shifted into the polite, yet unmistakably detached expression that he always showed her of late.

"Good day, Miss Swann," he answered, and the deliberate indifference in his voice stung her. She had no chance to try to draw him out, for the lieutenants' clipped acknowledgement of her—intentionally timed, she suspected, particularly on the part of Andrew Gillette—prevented her from speaking further. Drawing herself up and turning aside so that she'd not have to see James's dispassion, Theodore Groves's cool regard or the glint of undisguised scorn in Gillette's sharp gaze, she stared straight ahead. At that moment the ships were efficiently guided into the harbor, their smooth entry and docking amid the other vessels a clear indication of the expert hands aboard each. Authoritative orders to drop anchor triggered energetic activity on the decks that could be seen even from where they stood, and in what seemed no time at all, the gangplanks lowered to the surface of the pier. Weatherby and James trained steady gazes on the gate of the railing as it swung open, the gathered assembly following suit. Two attendants descended to flank the gangplank's lowest step, heralding the approach of a tall, dignified older gentleman whose posture was erect and his gait steady, despite the evidence of years marked by his queued salt-and-pepper hair and the lines etching his still-handsome features. Weatherby moved forward, a friendly smile spreading across his face and his hands extended in welcome.

"Lord Evan Hewlett," he declared, "It's been too long!"

"It certainly has," Evan agreed, exchanging firm clasps of hands and shoulders with Weatherby. "I see that the Governorship of Port Royal continues to agree with you."

"I manage it well enough, I am pleased to say, as I in turn expect that the management of your shipping business and your fleet still agrees with you."

"It does, with my son as well as myself. His accomplishments in such areas have been nothing short of commendable." Weatherby smiled and turned aside to gesture to Elizabeth, motioning her forward.

"That is most excellent. Allow me to reintroduce my daughter, whom I am certain you recall." Evan inclined his head in response to her curtsy, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

"I do indeed recall her. It is a pleasure to meet you once more, Miss Swann." She had barely uttered a proper response of her own before he turned to James, who had come forward to meet him, and gave a firm, affectionate clap to his shoulders. "And here is James Norrington—rather, Commodore Norrington now! That report in particular certainly made its way to us on Barbados, among other stories of success. I am most delighted to extend my congratulations to you, young man."

"Thank you, sir," James answered, the faint tinge of pink settling upon his cheeks at odds with his deferential, yet confident tone. "On behalf of His Majesty's Royal Navy, it is an honor to welcome you and your family to Port Royal."

"It is our honor to be presented with such an impeccable greeting from the military." As a young lady in clad in a lavender dress made her way off the nearest ship, he added, "And here is my daughter now." At the sound of the name, James shifted his gaze from Evan to watch her draw near, numerous memories from England surfacing alongside fewer, but no less fond recollections from past visits to Barbados, when time had too infrequently allowed. Images of a tiny, dark haired child coalesced before his mind's eye, shifting into those of a coltish young girl, spirited and endearing for all of her awkwardness. She came to stand before him, tilted her head to look up at him and all remembrance of the girl he'd known as a child and then as an adolescent was swept away by the presence of the young woman before him. Grey-violet eyes, the same shade as her father's, sparkled with vitality above an elegantly sloping nose and full lips which curved in a warm smile. Unexpectedly, he caught himself letting his gaze drift from her beautiful features to her golden skin, to the neatly arranged ebony hair that the tilt of her hat partially exposed. Firmly pulling his eyes back to hers, he inclined his head to her.

"Natalie," he murmured, "I'm most glad to meet you once more." He caught himself, began again. "That is to say, Miss Hewlett, I am honored to welcome you to Port Royal. I hope your journey was a safe one."

"Indeed it was," she replied, humor sparking in her gaze as she steadily returned his look. "I congratulate you on your promotion, and I am quite happy to see you again as well." His own lips tugged upward in response, the moment of interest began to lengthen and then Evan pointedly cleared his throat. They broke eye contact at that, James coughing lightly and stepping back while Natalie took a step away herself. Theodore, noticing his friend and commander's reaction to her, smirked and discreetly nudged Andrew's heel with his toe, causing the other man to purse his lips and slant his fellow officer a quick, chiding look.

For her part, Elizabeth ignored them and instead eyed James and Natalie, just as aware of what had passed between them as the others. Displeasure pricked her and she furrowed her brow, wondering how James could react to this girl in such a fashion within only moments of meeting her again, no matter that they had known each other before. Suddenly, she found herself wishing that Natalie Hewlett had grown into the plain, unimpressive gawk that Elizabeth had assumed she'd become, not caring how uncharitable the thought was. She carefully schooled her features so that no hint of her feelings would show, just as Natalie turned to address her.

"And I am pleased to meet you once more, Miss Swann." With some effort, Elizabeth forced her lips into a small, tight smile when they wanted to compress into a thin line instead.

"Likewise, Miss Hewlett," she brought out shortly. Natalie blinked at the abruptness of Elizabeth's reply and then her eyes sharpened. Just as the first stirrings of tension formed, diversion came in the form of two more newcomers, a tall, muscular, dark-haired man and a willowy young woman disembarking from the second ship a short distance away. James stepped forward to meet them alongside Weatherby and Evan as they advanced down the walkway. "Captain Sir Nicholas Hewlett," he addressed the first of the two, "On behalf of His Majesty's Royal Navy, I officially welcome you to Port Royal." Nicholas's full lips quirked upward in a jaunty smile that matched the vibrant spark in his coffee-brown eyes.

"You do us a great honor with your welcome, my friend. Allow me to offer my congratulations as well. And I'm sure you remember my lady wife, Cordelia?" The woman at Nicholas's side stepped forward and smiled, her azure gaze warm and courteous as she turned her attention to James.

"I certainly do. Welcome, Lady Hewlett," he intoned, chastely raising her hand to his lips.

"Well met once more, Commodore Norrington," Cordelia replied as Nicholas looked on, "I trust that what I've heard of your accomplishments since we last saw you is true."

"If I may say so," he answered modestly. "But some of it is a bit exaggerated." He looked over as Nicholas went to present his greetings to Andrew and Theodore. The arm clasps and brief, fraternal embraces were well within the boundaries of correctness, but when Nicholas and Theodore briefly leaned in to each other, he could hear, spoken low and discreetly,

"Teddy-Cat." The little grin Theodore let show matched Nicholas's.

"Nicky-Pet." Andrew swallowed a groan while Evan sighed, stating,

"Naturally, my son's excess of personality remains well intact."

"Much like our Lieutenant Groves, here," James said dryly, shooting a warning look at Theodore and then glancing around at the small crowd while he strove to conceal his embarrassment. "Honestly, I thought you'd abandoned those nicknames when we left midshipman status behind."

"Of course not," Andrew grumbled, equally as aware of the eyes on them as James, "They, unfortunately, are here to stay along with other quirks." Cordelia sighed as well, a long-suffering yet affectionate exhalation, looking from her husband to the officers.

"I take it, then, that certain stories of times past, including the origins of those rather unusual sobriquets are also true?"

"Regrettably so," Andrew told her, glaring at Theodore, who returned his look impenitently.

"And speaking of times past," Nicholas chimed in, the hint of mischief clear even in his unobtrusively pitched tone, "One can't help but notice how gamely you exchanged greetings with our Natty-Bug." James compressed his lips, while Natalie's mouth came open in indignation. She suppressed the instinctive urge to glance around for reassurance that no one else had heard, though her brother had kept his voice down.

"Why, I—how many times must I ask you not to call me that?" she wanted to know, annoyance making her voice's nasal undertone perceptible. Before Nicholas could reply, Evan broke in, sending his son a brief, admonishing glare.

"Rather than permit this occasion to become any more interesting than it already has, I suggest that we proceed to our new place of residence."

"Certainly, sir," James agreed. "My officers and I shall escort you and your family to your new home in formation." He turned to make for his horse, not advancing more than a few steps when Theodore cleared his throat to gain his attention.

"Actually, Commodore, if it is not too bold, I should like to suggest that you accompany Lord Hewlett and Miss Hewlett in their carriage. As part of official procedure, of course." James slowly turned his head to stare at Theodore, who pretended not to see his glower.

"You are no more bold than usual, Lieutenant Groves, inadvisable though such may be. I can see no reason not to follow your suggestion. This time."

"That is indeed a splendid idea," Weatherby concurred, hiding his amusement at the exchange. "And of course I shall be happy to offer the use of my own conveyance."

"Our thanks, Governor Swann," Nicholas replied with a smile. "You are most kind." Introductions to the rest of the assembly followed, and then the party of arrivals continued on their way. While the officers brought their mounts around and coachmen opened carriage doors, Elizabeth slowed her pace to observe James out of the corner of her eye. He'd not glanced in her direction once since his stilted, cursory greeting to her, and once he'd set eyes on Natalie Hewlett, it seemed that he'd forgotten her presence altogether. Oblivious to her, he extended his hand to see the girl into her carriage, another minute smile on his handsome features. The expression, though reserved enough to remain within the bounds of the propriety this occasion required, held unmistakable warmth and displeasure started to needle Elizabeth once again. She could think of no legitimate excuse to divert his attention, none that would not create awkwardness for her at the very least, so she had to stifle the sudden impulse to step forward and distract him. A limited degree of petty satisfaction arose when the hem of Natalie's dress caught on the corner of the high step and caused her to falter, only to be banished by the concern the trivial mishap drew from him.

"Here; allow me to assist you." She could hear James's soft, solicitous words, see the smile that that girl returned to him and her mouth tightened, even as Weatherby pointedly asked,

"Elizabeth, is something wrong?" She twitched and turned around to see her father watching her inquiringly. Hastily, she shook her head, trying to feign a nonchalance she didn't feel.

"What— no. It's nothing."

"Then do come along. We must be on our way." Elizabeth wordlessly nodded, allowing Weatherby to usher her into the carriage after the young Captain and his wife and settling herself onto the seat across from them. As it rolled into motion, she fussed with her skirts in an effort to put off the inevitable small talk and sent a quick look out of the window, only catching sight of a sliver of the conveyance behind them and the dispersing crowd at the pier. Several at the edge of the throng had turned to watch the procession depart and even over the increasing distance, she could see their mouths shaping their words and their expressions. Certain that some of those gazes were seeking her out, she drew away from the window, sat stiffly and tried not to look at anything in particular. Having to endure the veiled looks and unimpeded whispers in town was galling enough, but it appeared that some of the chatter was finding its way to the shipyard as well. Pulling in a shallow breath, she tried to maintain her calm. Cordelia chose that moment to speak, regarding her with polite concern.

"Are you quite all right, Miss Swann?" Elizabeth blinked and looked at the redhead, managing to formulate an answer for her.

"Yes, of course. Of course I am." Banishing her dubiousness, Cordelia continued amiably,

"Well, given the fuss that tends to surround occasions such as this, I imagine that it's been quite a day for you as well." Though she meant no offense, her statement only served to fully set Elizabeth's mind back on the annoyances that she had thus far had to tolerate and she bristled, unable to help herself.

"You might say as much," Elizabeth replied, more curtly than she meant to. Nicholas's eyebrows rose at her tone while Cordelia's looked at her archly, and Weatherby quickly interjected.

"Please forgive my daughter," he requested, hiding his chagrin. "It seems that she is not feeling quite well today."

"Apparently not," Cordelia remarked wryly. Awkwardness tinged the conversation that followed.

The atmosphere in the second carriage remained significantly more pleasant, and as the conversation progressed, James found himself musing that sometimes, Theodore's impertinence could indeed yield positive results—not that he would ever admit it aloud. The man was cheeky enough without any encouragement. Putting the thought aside, he fixed his concentration on their exchange as it drifted from the Navy's most recent duties to the subject of newer procedures in the Hewletts' shipping trade. He listened with interest, a measure of surprise catching him when he glanced at Natalie and saw just how thoroughly she understood many of the technical details mentioned. _Understanding of such a trade is certainly not something one would expect from most young ladies…. _A hint of the pull he'd experienced back on the pier stirred—_passing intrigue, nothing more_—and then he resolutely forced it down. It would hardly do to mistake curiosity over Natalie's grasp of her family's business practices for more than what it was. Not wishing to interrupt the flow of the discussion—or bring about another discomfiting moment—James brought his attention back to Evan's comments and offered his own. Before long, the gates of the Hewletts' property appeared before them, swinging open in the hands of caretakers to admit the two carriages and the mounted officers. Maids gathered freshly aired sheets and brushed rugs from the sills of open windows on the upper floor on the great manse, and several more members of the household staff waited to meet them as they left the carriages. Inside, the entrance hall and areas on either side of it bustled with activity and the plump older woman who had escorted them in alongside the butler turned to announce,

"Cook and the others will have lunch ready shortly, sir. Everything else should be in place, so you'll all be able to start getting settled in after the meal has been served."

"Thank you, Eleanor," Evan replied, and the housekeeper bobbed a curtsey before trotting away to attend to her tasks.

"It seems that everything is already quite well in hand," Weatherby commented, tranquilly glancing about at the activity. "We shall take our leave now, and please do not hesitate to inform me of a convenient time at which we may meet, to discuss some aspects of business in greater detail."

"Of course, my friend; I will do so in timely fashion, you may be sure."

"Likewise, I'll be contact you soon," Nicholas informed James. "You'll wish to know more about specific measures that have arisen, I am certain. And of course, we have quite a bit of catching up to do."

"We do, indeed." With that, the round of farewells began. The officers, Nick and Cordelia exchanged words alongside the older gentlemen, the dignified warmth of the moment disrupted only by Theodore's animated,

"Good day, Nicky-Pet." and Nicholas's reply,

"Good day to you, Teddy-Cat." Elizabeth forced herself to briefly speak to Natalie as she came away from the others, struggling to hide her reluctance to do so. Natalie responded in kind, but the seeds of aversion remained present despite the show of civility. Without another word or glance at the Hewletts, Elizabeth turned and moved to keep pace with her father in time for them to be escorted to the door. James inclined his head to Natalie, mindful of their company, and then led his officers away.

* * *

That night found the Commodore in his office at the Fort, bent over a considerable amount of paperwork as he so frequently was. The memory of Elizabeth's rejection did not weigh upon him nearly so heavily for a change, as often as it crept into his mind whenever he was alone and lacked distraction. Instead, the arrival of the Hewletts and the pleasure of seeing them again occupied the forefront of his thoughts. _As well it might._ His lips quirked upwards at the reminiscences his musings brought, from his first introduction to Lord Hewlett as a boy, to the similarities he hadn't been able to help noticing between Theodore and Nicholas even in childhood, then to the time spent on the Hewlett estate in England and later, those visits to the family on Barbados. His recollections brought him once more to the memories of Natalie as a little girl and that in turn led him to think of the way she'd looked that afternoon, her poise and her fine manner. There was certainly nothing childlike about her now. Realizing the direction his thoughts were beginning to take, James hastily shook off the notion, blinking at the sound of Theodore's amused, knowing drawl.

"Oh, that's what I thought."

"Whatever are you on about?" James asked, hiding his discomfort under starchy impatience.

"Come on, James." Theodore stepped away from the office door and came to the great mahogany desk to lay the last of the day's missives on its impeccably maintained surface. "I think you know perfectly well what I'm 'on about'. I noticed how you admired her. Everyone did, I'm sure."

"That's absurd—"

"There's no shame in it; Natalie's grown up into a fine young lady." Theodore's smile bloomed into a grin and he gave in to the urge to tease his friend. "And as much as you might lament the 'excess of personality' that both Nick and I have been accused of on occasion, it's undeniable that we are additional links to Natty-Bug." James glared at him warningly even as embarrassment threatened.

"It's not like that," he shot back indignantly. "It's no more than anyone would feel upon suddenly seeing someone they knew as a child fully grown! Aside from that, it's simple fondness from having known her for years, as you are quite aware."

"Oh, of course it is." The glare intensified above faintly pinked cheeks and Theodore held up his hands in a placating gesture, backing out of the office. "But say no more. Good night, James." When he had gone, James rolled his eyes and shook his head. The idea that Theodore had emphasized lingered, but he did his best to ignore it.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**One month later**

Weatherby thanked the maid who collected the tea tray from the polished table to one side, turning back to his guest as she bobbed a curtsey and slipped out of the sitting room.

"I'm glad that you and your family have already settled in so well."

"We're finding Port Royal to be very hospitable." Evan replied, standing up to join him at the open balcony doors.

"Good," Weatherby said, smiling at that. "Very good. It has ever been my hope to make this city a welcoming place for citizens from all walks of life. Commodore Norrington, alongside others, has been instrumental in achieving that." Evan's lips twitched upward at the mention of the young man.

"That comes as no surprise. Even as a youth back in England, he showed much promise and in spite of his detractors, a more than a few noticed his potential."

"Rightfully so," the Governor concurred, permitting himself a moment of fatherly pride at James's accomplishments before shifting his attention to more professional interests. "In any instance, I am rather impressed by the latest news of your shipping trade, especially the maintaining of its profit under your current methods. That is, in competition with those who resort to…rather less scrupulous dealings, if you don't mind my saying." Evan shook his head, aware that the man meant only to tactfully mention his stanch refusal to allow or practice the kinds of corruption that other transporters chose to engage in—and more to the point, avoid bringing up the censure that such had incited from some.

"Not at all," he assured him, banishing the thought. "We do well enough, through the channels maintained by ourselves and our most influential and trustworthy contacts. Their assistance has proven greatly valuable in that respect especially."

"Of course." Weatherby paused briefly and then went on. "There is also the manner in which some of your ships have navigated a few of the less secure routes between Europe and the Caribbean. To my understanding, the vessels in question have employed a few novel methods of handling unexpected difficulties, have they not?"

"That's so, specifically when those difficulties presented themselves in the form of attacks at sea." The answer needed no embellishment; the implications alone were sufficient to spark grim thoughts of hostilities perpetrated by pirates. "Turning evasion maneuvers into surprise offensives—among other things—preserved lives as well as contributed to the success of our expeditions." Now pride surfaced on Evan's face. "The credit for that belongs to my son as much as it does the other crewmembers of those ships. It was skill and resourcefulness of that sort which eventually led to his formal training and following that, his earning his captaincy in our fleet."

"Yes," Weatherby acknowledged, nodding in understanding. "I remember your informing me of his apprenticeship, in his fourteenth year, if I recall. And he moved up through the ranks fairly quickly."

"He did indeed. It's served us well, years ago when we relocated to Barbados, and when the death of one of our highest ranking associates required us to move here."

"Of course; I was aware of Mr. Francis's passing. It is a shame, truly." Silence fell, and the thought of one favorable outcome of his family's departure from England flitted through Evan's mind. _Distance from the persistent talk surrounding us was indeed beneficial, especially for my son and daughter…and that, I suppose, is only as much as one can expect of society. No matter how much time passed, there were those who could not reconcile themselves with whom I chose as my wife—God rest her—and for no more than her somewhat exotic lineage. Though neither that nor anything else diminished her character in the least and it never began to diminish the characters of my children, those individuals did not harbor the least measure of acceptance, for all their usual pretenses to the contrary._ His brow furrowed slightly and Weatherby sympathetically took in the subtle shift in his expression, a strong inkling of what distracted him forming, and then cleared his throat to break the brief stillness. "In any instance, speaking of your recent arrival, I am reminded of my plans concerning another engagement by which to welcome you and your family." Evan shook off his distraction and returned his full attention to the discussion at hand.

"The reception given to us at the harbor upon our arrival made for a fine welcome in itself."

"Oh, it was chiefly the Commodore and his officers to whom the praise may go for that. What I have in mind would be a gesture purely from me. I should like to host an engagement in your honor—a dinner party, shall we say. It would not be overly extravagant, simply a gathering including our families and a few others of our mutual association."

"That's a lovely suggestion, old friend." Weatherby waved a hand, affably returning his smile.

"It is my pleasure. Clearly, other obligations would prevent the engagement from taking place as soon as might be preferred, but what do you say to a Friday evening, about four weeks from this very day?"

"I find that most agreeable," Evan warmly answered.

"Excellent! Now, I should like to apprise you of a few other recent developments here."

***

James determinedly refrained from tapping his fingers on the worn wooden countertop and ignored the stirrings of impatience within. There was scarcely any better way to serve the needs of his officers for weapons and other various supplies—or to still at least a fair number of the tongues that had wagged incessantly after his loss of face those many weeks ago—but the knowledge that doing so was an inescapable necessity could not ease his reluctance when it came to dealing with Port Royal's premier blacksmith. Compressing his lips, he glanced up at the sound of footsteps in time to see the young man in question emerge from the back room. Wiping his hands on a scrap of cloth and setting it down, William Turner came to stand on the opposite side of the counter.

"The refurbished hinges will be ready by the end of the week," Will informed him evenly. "Is there anything else, Commodore?"

"No," James replied, his own voice equally as cool for all of its civility. "That will be all. My thanks, Mr. Turner." He paused, and before the uncomfortable silence could grow too weighty, said at length, "Good day." For an instant some heavy emotion passed through Will's eyes, something that could easily be called distinct regret if James had wanted to put a name to it, and then he merely inclined his head.

"Good day," he responded simply. James stiffly returned his nod and moved to leave the smithy. Will opened his mouth to speak further—exactly what he would say, he didn't know—but the older man was already gone. Letting out a rough exhalation, he stepped away from the counter to resume his work.

Striding back down the main path as quickly as he could without adopting an unseemly pace, James held back a sigh of his own. To call the decline of his relationship with the young man whose upbringing he'd helped to complete lamentable was an understatement, but in light of all that had happened, perhaps it couldn't be helped. The stinging awkwardness and distance now between them was only one of the reasons why he'd declined to attend the ball celebrating Will's betrothal to Elizabeth under a dreadfully thin pretext. Moreover, as much as he disliked weakness, most of all in himself, he'd had no desire to watch the young woman breeze about at the side of the man she'd publicly rejected him for and not even Weatherby's disappointment had been able to sway him. Hurt knifed through him then, less acute than it had been but present nonetheless and his jaw briefly tightened against it. _Perhaps if I'm terribly lucky, I'll be able to avoid the wedding as well._ Though he knew such a notion ill became him, he made little effort to prevent it from forming. He had no further time to reflect for as he passed the dressmaker's shop, Elizabeth stepped outside with her maid a few paces behind and caught sight of him. Surprise and then expectation showed in her face openly and James halted to acknowledge her in resignation.

"Good day, Miss Swann."

"Good day," she answered coolly, her chin up. A suspicion as to the reason for her obvious displeasure nagged and he tried to ignore it. _After all,_ came the rueful thought, _it really isn't my place to be attentive to such things any longer, now is it?_ Shortly inclining his head to her, he made to continue on his way. He'd taken no more than two steps when she insistently rapped out his name. The sigh tried to break past his lips once more on the first stirrings of wholly unexpected annoyance.

"I do not—" He began, but she interrupted him, her lovely features set with haughty irritation.

"How long do you intend to keep this up?"

"I beg your pardon? I must say that I don't—"

"I hardly saw you before my engagement ball, and you did not attend when it was held. You scarcely spoke to me in all the time following, especially on that day in the harbor when—" Elizabeth nearly uttered the words _the Hewlett girl_ and quickly amended, "When the Hewletts arrived, and we've not truly talked since then!" That unsatisfied pronouncement confirmed his suspicion. Though she'd chosen another, and in a most unceremonious fashion besides, she'd thought he'd remain close at hand somehow and was disappointed by the fact that he hadn't. _Did she really expect otherwise?_ That notion too, came unbidden as she stopped to pull in a calming breath, heedless of the onlookers taking notice of their exchange. James did notice them, noting to himself that they were few enough in number, considering, but still too many. As it was, the gossip that had sprung from their broken engagement—and the debacle involving one Jack Sparrow, as little as he liked to recall it—was widespread enough. Additional displays could only result in more embarrassment for him as well as Elizabeth and further compromise her already blemished reputation. Spurred on by the lingering traces of responsibility that he felt towards her, he opened his mouth to offer a response that might allow them both to part ways as gracefully as possible. She launched back into speech before he could utter a word, unhappiness blooming in her expression to replace the annoyance. "I can't help but feel that that is wrong, for we were once able to speak to each other freely. Why can't that be so now?" Finally, the sigh escaped. Once he would have readily done whatever she asked, given her anything, but the inclination toward such had gradually waned until it barely existed. He replied quietly but firmly,

"Times change, Miss Swann, and as often as not, relationships change with them. That can't be helped." Her brow furrowed in consternation.

"You must know that I never meant for—" This time it was his turn to interrupt her.

"Dwelling on such things does not serve us at all. Now if you will excuse me, I really must be off." Nodding to her once more, he walked away from her. Elizabeth watched him go, her features tightening with affront and hurt. In all the years she'd known James, she'd always been able to bring him around whenever she wished, but now she could feel the remoteness between them and she didn't care for it in the least. Estrella uneasily glanced around, delicately suggesting,

"Perhaps we ought to be gettin' back before the hour grows too late, Miss." Elizabeth gave her no more than a terse nod for a response and started back to where the carriage waited, so absorbed in her discontentment that she saw none of the furtive looks that followed her and failed to hear the whispers circulating among the less discreet passersby.

* * *

Half-listening to the soft, merry chatter of the maids as they dusted the long table in the center of the library, Natalie unpacked the books that had just arrived and set them in order on the shelves before her. While she did so, James Norrington came to mind and her lips curved up somewhat at the thought of him. He cut an even more arresting figure than she remembered, between his familiar serious bearing and his commanding demeanor. In addition, there was his grace and unfailing politeness to think of alongside the subtle charm he'd shown her on the day of her family's arrival and the occasions upon which they'd crossed paths afterwards. _Subtle, but undeniably sweet,_ she mused. _An attractive trait, to be sure. And his smile and those deep green eyes of his are even more expressive than I remember as well._ Realizing the direction that her thoughts were taking, she let them trail off and shook her head at herself. _Honestly. Look at me, practically daydreaming over the man when we're only friends._ Cordelia entered the library at that moment, smiling warmly when she caught sight of her and approaching. Natalie stepped away from the shelves to greet her, smiling back and setting her reflections aside.

"How was tea at Mrs. Trenowyth's residence?"

"Oh, it was agreeable enough."

"Just agreeable?" Amusement colored the taller woman's pretty features.

"The hostess of the gathering and her other companions decided to pass the afternoon expounding at length upon the elopement of Francine Carey's cousin with a barber's nephew and Sir and Lady Knivetton having to send their daughter back to London on grounds of her unseemly behavior."

"Ah, yes. I've heard a good deal of that myself. Quite a few who had also attended that luncheon last week couldn't speak of the Knivettons' quandary enough. There was also profuse speculation concerning what Miss Carey's cousin will undoubtedly face now. I suppose it just shows that for some, such matters never lose their fascination." Cordelia nodded at that.

"Indeed; I don't pay as much attention to such things, but some are even more susceptible to scandal than others when it comes to that." She paused when the distant sound of voices drifted to them from the foyer. "And that will be Nicholas and Father." They companionably walked out to the foyer to greet the men and Nicholas drew his wife close for a kiss.

"Did you have an interesting day, love?"

"Interesting enough, if you're inclined to count afternoon tea served with generous gossip—aside from the usual goings on—as such. Did you?" Nicholas's lips twitched upward at one corner.

"Say no more. And today at least, little of note occurred at either the offices or the shipyard. That is, aside from the small matter of assigning a couple of the newest ships, which I'll mention to James when I go to the fort a bit later." Natalie glanced over while he spoke, an unexpected notion forming. It was impulsive of her, she knew, but the acknowledgement did not prevent her from framing the suggestion.

"If you're going to the fort, I'd like to accompany you, if you don't mind." _It would simply be nice to say hello to James,_ she told herself as three curious gazes turned to her. That's all.

"Oh, would you, now?" Evan questioned in mild surprise, and she hastily supplied,

"Only because I need to go into town for a few things, and it's on the way." Cordelia did her best to conceal a smile, while Nicholas arched an eyebrow.

"If you say so," he replied after a moment or two, the tone of his voice clearly indicating that he suspected otherwise. Natalie inclined her head in confirmation, managing to keep her expression almost completely nonchalant at the perceptive look her sister-in-law gave her.

***

"Did you happen to see James when he returned a while ago?" Andrew let his eyes flick sideways to glance at his friend as they made their way inside the fort and started down the central corridor.

"I didn't, come to think of it. I was down at the stretch of beachfront not far from here, sorting out a dispute involving Officers Murtogg and Mullroy. According to their latest flight of fancy, passing through certain straits on the far side of Tripoli on a certain day, when the sun is in a certain position leads to irreversible bad fortune." He paused, a long-suffering look dominating his features for an instant. "They felt that they had to argue their point with a pair of sailors passing by at length and needless to say, it was interfering with their duties."

"My goodness."

"Yes." Andrew shook off the irritation that the memory brought and turned to Theodore. "Anyhow, why do you ask?"

"He seemed rather burdened. That is, more so than usual." Theodore shook his head at the thought, his dark eyes narrowing with atypical seriousness. "Then again, that's to be expected, given his position and the fact that he damn near goes out of his way to overwork himself until he's practically worn to nothing, especially of late. And of course there are other things to consider." Now it was Andrew's turn to narrow his eyes, his faintly freckled cheeks tautening as the usual precursor to his distinctive scowl.

"'Other things' meaning his having to weather the ongoing difficulty that being publicly humiliated has caused him, I'm sure."

"Too true. It isn't something one recovers from very easily."

"Indeed not, and this particular instance is something for which we may thank Miss Swann." His lip curled as he mentioned the young woman, his contempt for her shading his voice as it always did when he spoke of her. Theodore hardly paused.

"With that in mind, it may be good for James to go about finding another match."

"Oh?" Andrew looked at him again, the tone of his voice and the half-hidden sparkle in his eye alerting the instinct that always stirred whenever Theodore was up to something. "What are you thinking, Teddy?"

"You may remove that look from your face; I'm not up to anything." Dark ginger eyebrows rose and Theodore snorted. "Well, not exactly. I'm just thinking of how matters might be subtly helped along, all in good time of course. As it is, a few possible prospects are coming to mind this very instant. There is the Earl of Tyndale's middle daughter, to name one, Sir Lehenard's youngest daughter…." He trailed off, adopting his best casual look. "Perhaps even Miss Hewlett, I dare say." Andrew stopped in the middle of the corridor to eye him dubiously.

"Oh, come now. Though we've a long-standing friendship with them—"

"There is that unmistakable little hint of something, and it was especially noticeable the day the Hewletts arrived, when—"

"That doesn't mean anything else is present. You read too much into it. Perhaps if you didn't have such a habit of picking up on subtle signals from those individuals who happen to catch your eye, you mightn't be so inclined to imagine such things." Theodore gave his look right back to him, huffing lightly in affront.

"Really, Andy. That's uncalled for." He noticed Nicholas and Natalie approaching at that moment and smoothly turned to greet them.

"Good day to you, Nick. Natty—"

"Theodore, really," the young woman protested. "Must we go over what I think of that nickname again?" He hid his mirth, correcting himself.

"Natalie. What brings you both here today?" Nicholas smiled in amusement at the interaction as he clapped each man's shoulder.

"Good day to you both, gentlemen. I'm just here to bring up a small matter to James that he might like to hear additional details of."

"And I needed to make a couple of stops in town, so I decided to come along."

"As you say," Nicholas added, earning a look from his little sister. Theodore sent a satisfied glance at Andrew, who rolled his eyes at him in response. Unfazed, he went on cheerfully,

"Very good, then. The Commodore should still be in his office, so shall we proceed?"

***

James determinedly kept his attention on the pile of paperwork before him—and truly, it was remarkable how there seemed to be more of it each day—striving to ignore the pressure over the bridge of his nose that signaled the day's first headache. But this time, it did not start until well after midday. _That must surely be an improvement._ He decided to take the inconsequential change as such, even as he acknowledged in the back of his mind how laughable it was that he'd come to the point of regarding trivialities so. Then, perhaps it was not, given the things he needed to distract himself from. The times when he couldn't avoid any of the town gossips or Miss Swann proved trying enough on their own, as today's encounter had emphasized. He didn't even want to contemplate how much more difficult they might soon become, between those factors and the disagreeably substantial likelihood that when the date of the Turner-Swann wedding finally arrived, those ambitious matriarchs determined to secure only the most prestigious matches for their offspring would view it as the perfect occasion upon which to resume pushing their daughters at him. _It's rather surprising that more of them haven't done so already, as much as some of them like to insist that they'll "respectfully" allow me time after my so-called unfortunate turn._ The thought alone intensified his headache and so preoccupied him that he nearly missed the knock upon the door.

"Enter," he called distractedly, looking up in time to see Nicholas and Natalie step into the office, ushered by his right-hand lieutenants. A warm smile of welcome tugged at his lips as he rose to greet them, the formality born of long habit relaxing.

"Nicholas. It's good to see you."

"And you," his friend replied. "I hope we're not interrupting anything of importance."

"Not at all. Believe me; the day's paperwork will go nowhere." James noticed Natalie at that moment and his concerns receded even more when she smiled at him and stepped forward.

"Good day, Natalie. It's a pleasure to see you as always."

"Likewise," she answered, her eyes twinkling. Nicholas cleared his throat lightly then, as much to help the moment pass as to keep his wry amusement in check, while Theodore smirked from his position near the door.

"In any instance, my own reason for stopping by is to bring up the assignment of the newest ships in the harbor, as they've not yet been permanently placed." James nodded, fixing his concentration on the immediate subject.

"That won't be at all difficult to settle. I'm sure I can see to that in the next few days, in fact."

"In the midst of the other extra duties he's taken it upon himself to shoulder," Theodore commented regretfully, earning himself a chiding look. Holding up a hand in a mollifying gesture, he added, "Sorry, but it happens to be true, right alongside the fact that you let yourself get so absorbed in your work that you hardly bother to eat some days." Nicholas glanced between them, concern surfacing.

"I admit that I have my moments where that's concerned. Still, I hope that's not been happening too frequently."

"We do what we can," Andrew put in regretfully—a bit dramatically, to Theodore's ears—shaking his head. "It's still a tad worrying." James held back a sigh. As subtle as his friends could be and usually were, their hovering was unmistakable at the best of times and even more so now.

"Honestly, as I've told you before, you needn't fret so. I know you mean well and I thank you for it, but I hardly think my health is in any jeopardy." As she followed the exchange, Natalie contemplated the notion that formed and finally decided to frame it aloud, as impulsive as she knew this was as well. _Today seems to be my day for that._

"If it would help, I could bring lunch by the fort on some days, when time and other obligations allow." She pushed back the tiny measure of awkwardness that arose when all gazes swung to her and opened her mouth to continue, but James spoke first.

"I wouldn't mind at all. That is to say, I would consider it welcome."

"Then I'd be quite—" Nicholas interjected, a brow canting as he gave her a mild but pointed look,

"Father would have to hear about it first, just on principle."

"Yes, of course," she answered, returning his gaze, "But I think he may very well find the idea agreeable."

"We'll see, anyway."

"I think it might go well, if I may say," Theodore offered, and when all eyes rested upon him, added, "And on that note, my duties await." James simply inclined his head, compressing his lips as the young lieutenant let himself out of the office alongside Andrew. He made little effort to hide his satisfaction, while Andrew suppressed the urge to roll his eyes a second time.

"A lovely thing, isn't it, Andy?"

"Oh, stop it."


End file.
